


big fat noises

by roses36



Category: Coldplay (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta!Will, M/M, Omega!Chris, Will is Will, alpha!guy, alpha!jonny, chris is an omega twink, do people even want this idk, guy is a loveable asshole, jonny is a chonky alpha, pre-parachutes era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24008926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roses36/pseuds/roses36
Summary: chris is twenty and still unpresented. maybe it's for the best.
Relationships: Jonny Buckland/Chris Martin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	1. one

Being an unpresented virgin at the age of twenty might sound like a nightmare, but that's only because it is.

It's typical for Betas to present at age fifteen, Alphas at sixteen, and Omegas at seventeen. Usually, it happened around their birthday, but not always. A year or so variation fell within the acceptable range of normal. 

So when Chris went with his parents to the doctor soon after his eighteenth birthday, he reassured them that Chris would be fine. _A late bloomer,_ he assessed, _nothing to worry about. Come back in about eighteen months if he still hasn't presented._

When his nineteenth birthday came and went with nothing to show, they thought that perhaps he was just a remarkably weak Beta. When a quick blood test proved this hypothesis wrong, they referred him to a specialist, but once again reassured him that he was otherwise healthy.

His most recent clinic appointment a few days after his twentieth birthday was when Chris had first heard the word _defective_ in reference to himself. Defective. No status, no scent behind the fresh-laundry aroma that was cute on kids but something to be ashamed of on an adult. Unable to bond. Unable to breed. In layman's terms, fucked up. 

It wasn't even something he could hide. If he hadn't wanted people to know his status, he could've gone on heat blockers or hormone suppressors or whatever else they were selling nowadays. But he had no choice. That clean smell marked him as innocent, garnered him absolutely no respect. Alphas openly mocked him. Omegas fawned over him like you would a child. Betas pitied him. It was exhausting. 

Being inexperienced sexually didn't help either. Even when he was younger, even at the point when it was a little weird that he hadn't presented yet but not a goddamn Scarlet Letter, he was too awkward with girls to get past second base at a maximum. Add in his confusion towards his sexuality, his personality, and his less-than modelesque looks and it was a recipe for disaster. He'd never even really been in a committed relationship for more than a month or so. He didn't know if people could tell by his scent or his face or just his presence that he was a lost cause, but he knew they all knew. 

His handicapped sense of smell was both a blessing and a curse. He could still smell other people's scents, thank God. That was an ability acquired by preteens; he could only imagine the ridicule he would be subjected to if he lacked that as well. They were just dulled severely to him. Most of the time he could only really detect someone's scent if he was actively making an effort to, and even then he couldn't detect any of the subtle changes he'd heard that those who had presented could: he couldn't tell if an Omega was going into heat soon or coming down off it, couldn't tell if an Alpha was about to fight or flee from a threat, couldn't even discern if someone had scented with another. His own scent was so weak it barely lingered on anything for more than a few moments. It was shameful that he was nearly twenty-fucking-one and couldn't do this shit while there were barely-teenaged kids that could.

There was one positive, however. One of the very few, and maybe the only one about his predicament if he was to sit down and try to write a list. Although he could never use his sense of smell as an asset, it was never a hindrance either. He never once got lost in the scent of a sweet-smelling Omega or a strong Alpha. He never had to worry about getting scent-drunk on anyone at an inopportune time. He never had to worry about his own biology betraying his emotions to the world. So there was that, at least.

So when he first met Jonny Buckland he knew he was done for.

He was sat in a corner, high as a kite, the whites of his green eyes tinged red. He was a bit chubby but still attractive. You could tell if he lost some weight he'd be very handsome. But none of that was what Chris first noticed. Instead he noticed the smell of rain, of freshly cut grass and cool lakefront breeze. A note underneath it all of something Chris instinctively identified as _Alpha_ and nothing else. 

\----------

A fast friendship, a band formation, and a year and a half later, Chris and Jonny find themselves living with two Betas in a flat on Camden road. Chris didn't very much mind the others, who were nice enough and kept to themselves, but he definitely minded the fact that Jonny's scent was fucking _everywhere_. The sofa, his bedroom, Jonny's bedroom, the kitchen, it all reeked of the strongest scent Chris had ever experienced up to this point, arguably the _best_ that Chris had ever experienced up to this point, and he can only imagine how bad it would be if he could actually smell it proper. 

It didn't help that Jonny was also _Jonny_. Tall, attractive, an ace at guitar. Kind and quiet, but still never failed to make Chris laugh. And despite his seemingly docile nature, he was still an Alpha through and through, always protecting Chris from the asshole Alphas that would try to mess with him (including the one in their own band, although he does so with much less malice and a lot more jest). 

That's what concerned Chris most about the fact that he couldn't keep Jonny off his mind, couldn't stop imagining how his lips would taste, couldn't stop wanking at night pretending it was Jonny in the room over that was doing it instead. It was that Jonny was an _Alpha_ , and he hadn't even presented yet. How could Jonny ever want him? Furthermore, if he was attracted just as much to the Alpha part of Jonny as he was to the Jonny part of the Alpha, what did that make him? What did it mean if he woke up achingly hard from dreams about a _male Alpha_ fighting another over him, knotting him and filling him up with his cum, sinking his teeth into his neck deep enough to leave a scar that would show the whole world who he _belonged_ to?

He's just going to have to live with it until it kills him, he figured. What choice does he have otherwise? 


	2. two

"Have you ever scented with anyone?"

Chris turns his head from the football game on the T.V. to look at the Alpha sitting on the sofa next to him. Jonny's still looking dead at the screen, his posture relaxed and expression neutral. 

They never really talk about anything related to statuses or dynamics. Jonny knows Chris is unpresented, of course, but he's never brought it up. Chris knows it probably has to do with the fact Jonny is an atypical Alpha: while most Alphas were loud, extroverted, and assertive, Jonny was the definition of an introvert, never one to start trouble. He as perfectly capable of taking up that Alpha role, able more than hold his own in a fight and be domineering if needed. He just never seemed to find himself in those situations. He kept to himself and carried himself in a way that conveyed to other Alphas that he'd rather be left alone. 

So this sudden question takes Chris aback, makes him shift in his seat slightly. "There's no point of it," he replies cautiously, "can't smell a difference."

" _You_ might not be able to," Jonny continued, sliding over until his thigh was nearly flush against Chris's, "but everyone else can."

"Why're you bringing this up all of a sudden?"

Jonny stops for a brief moment before shrugging, far too casually, and leaning even closer into Chris. "You're my best friend," he says simply, "and I want to."

Chris feels his heart rate quicken as he considers Jonny's proposal; just being next to Jonny made him feel like he was going a bit crazy, but having Jonny _scent_ with him? Having them both be draped all over each other in more ways than one? They weren't afraid to be affectionate with one another, but being drenched in Jonny's scent, having everyone be able to sense it all over him while he couldn't even himself, seemed like something different entirely.

 _Fuck,_ it was horrifying and ridiculously enticing all at once. 

"If you want to smell like you've been feeling up a preteen, then go ahead."

\----------

Several minutes later and Chris realizes that he fucked up big time. 

He's sat on the floor in front of the couch ( _"More room down here", Jonny had reasoned_ ), in between Jonny's sprawled out legs. He feels the heat of the Alpha all along his back as Jonny has his face pressed against the side of his neck, where his scent is strongest. _Where a bond bite would go_ , his brain supplies, and that's definitely not a thought he wants to have right now because he's never been entirely sure if others could smell arousal on him. 

One of Jonny's hands is on Chris's knee while the other passes over his body, rubbing his scent into him. If Chris was an Omega he's sure he'd be gone: the smell of rain is so strong around him he's sure there's going to be a storm in their apartment, the scent of grass reminds him of summer days as a kid. They're nearly the same height but Jonny feels so fucking _big_ behind him, and he feels so safe and loved by the Alpha he could cry. 

"You smell so good, Chris," Jonny breathes into his neck, the sensation making Chris sigh before he can stop himself, "like you're fresh out the wash."

He means to come back with a joke in response ( _So you like the smell of kids, Buckland?_ ), but because he's a Lovesick Idiot he just shudders and nods instead. It feels so _good_ being in Jonny's arms; Jonny, his best friend, his guitarist, the one person in the world that knows him more than anyone else, that _understands_ him more than anyone else, and if he could live the rest of his life right here he would.

Which is why this needs to _stop,_ because he's never going to get this closeness, this relationship, with Jonny in the way he wants it. 

Jonny moves his head so that it's behind Chris's own, resting it at the nape of his neck. "Wonder what you'll smell like when you present."

"If," Chris immediately corrects, "and that's a big if. Doctor's said I might be defective."

Jonny scoffs, as if the very prospect of a twenty-year-old being worried that they haven't presented yet is ridiculous. "You're not defective," he says, "now stop talking."

The hand that was traveling up and down Chris's body stops at the side of his head. Jonny puts his thumb under Chris's jaw and turns it, and Chris couldn't fight back even if he wanted to, he's completely pliant in Jonny's arms. The Alpha's lips ghost over the side of his neck once again, and before Chris can even calculate what's going on Jonny is _licking_ his neck.

"What the fuck are you doing," Chris manages to spit out, trying for confrontational and failing entirely. It's taking everything in his power to not start moaning like a cheap whore and begging Jonny to fuck him into the floor, he can't really bother to make sure his inflection is appropriate for the message he wants to convey. 

Jonny retracts his head from Chris's neck and looks at him, confusion evident on his face. At what Chris can't tell, but he doesn't have much time to speculate before Jonny just starts laughing. 

"What is so funny?" Chris asks, suddenly annoyed at Jonny who is in absolute hysterics.

"You're funny," Jonny says, barely able to stifle his laughter enough to answer the question.

"You know what," Chris replies, turning around to face his friend, who has his head back on top of the couch cushions apparently losing his mind or something, "I hope I'm an Alpha so I can kick your ass proper."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Come on, I could probably pin you as we speak."

Jonny lets out a playful growl as he shoves Chris forwards onto the ground and suddenly they're wrestling like kids, bumping into furniture and nearly breaking their roommate's favorite mug that's on the floor, and Chris knows Jonny is going easy on him because realistically he'd win with both hands tied behind his back but he doesn't care and eventually they both find themselves breathless from laughing so hard that they can barely breathe and Chris decides Jonny's laugh is the best thing he's ever heard.


	3. three

A week or so goes by and Jonny doesn't bring up anything else about scenting or wanting to lick his best friend, so Chris decides not to either. Not that he was planning on bringing it up anyway. 

Also occurring within that week, his roommates announce that they're both going to be out of town. They explained where exactly they were going, but to be frank Jonny and Chris both stopped listening once it was announced they would have the flat to themselves for a bit. They immediately went to call Guy and Will and schedule a practice for the day after they leave: now they'll only have to deal with neighbors wanting them to shut the hell up and not two Betas.

The second Chris wakes up on that day, he knows it's going to be a shitty one.

He's far too hot for comfort. His clothes are sticking to himself, and when he kicks off the sheets and meets no relief, he figures he has a fever. Perfect. He's sick.

Groaning, he sits up, running his hand through his sweat-soaked curls. He wants absolutely nothing more than to lie down for the next several days, but his roommates don't up and leave town very often and they have to take advantage. 

His thoughts are interrupted by a strange sensation in his stomach— it's not painful, per se, but it's a feeling he's never experienced before. 

He decides to take a shower, both in an attempt to run his temperature down and make himself at least slightly less disgusting. When he finally makes his way into the living room, he finds Jonny sitting on the sofa, eating eggs he didn't know the Alpha could cook.

"You look terrible," Jonny states, looking up at Chris's disheveled form. 

"A real Sherlock Holmes you are," Chris retorts, plopping down onto the couch next to him.

"I've got a fever, I think," he continues, "and my stomach feels weird."

"Weird how?" 

"It's like," Chris starts, struggling to find the words, "there's this twisting. Like an Indian burn, almost. I don't know."

Just then it hits him again, more intense this time and actually painful, and he doubles over, clutching at his stomach. When the pain subsides, he sits up and turns his head towards Jonny, who's looking at him with an expression between confusion and concern. Brows furrowed, he leans over and places his hand on Chris's forehead. Jonny's hands are always cold, and Chris leans into his touch. While on a surface level it provides him some relief, it paradoxically makes him feel warmer at the same time.

"You're not running a fever," Jonny mutters, seemingly more to himself than to Chris

Unexpectedly, he leans in even closer and noses at the crook of Chris's neck, breathing him in. Before Chris can even react Jonny's pulled away, his scent barely lingering around him. He feels more flushed than before, and a look towards Jonny reveals he's in the same state.

"What?" he breathes.

"Nothing," Jonny immediately replies, rushed and unnatural. Before Chris can call him out for lying, he gets up and walks towards the house phone hanging in the kitchen.

"Where're you going?" Chris asks, turning around on the couch to watch him.

Jonny picks up the receiver and looks at the small list of phone numbers taped next to the phone. "I'm gonna call the guys and tell them you're sick."

"M'not sick," Chris whined, lying back on the couch, "you said I'm not."

"I _said_ you don't have a fever,” Jonny sighs, “and that doesn’t make you any less sick.”

"I'm fine," Chris insists, "m’ just hot. And since when are you my mum?"

Jonny turns to look at him, and Chris gives his most pathetic, pleading look, one that never seems to fail on the Alpha.

"Fine," he relents, but he doesn't seem too happy about it.

\--------

"I thought your roommates were Betas," are the first words out of Guy's mouth as he and Will walk into the flat.

Chris is half asleep on the couch, barely conscious enough to make out what's being said. Guy sets down his bass near the end of the couch and approaches Jonny, who’s sitting on what has to be the world’s most uncomfortable chair. 

"They are," Jonny replies, not even looking up from the guitar he's tuning.

Guy narrows his eyes skeptically. "Then why does it smell like—"

"Cut it out, Guy," Jonny says, surprisingly firm, which catches Chris's attention enough to where he’s fully awake.

Chris sits up to see Guy eyeing Jonny, clearly put on edge at the older Alpha's uncharacteristic aggression, instinctively standing up taller and straightening his shoulders. Jonny puts his guitar down and stands up as well, his mind sensing a challenge. 

“What’re you all on about?” Chris asks, confused, and both the Alphas look over to him, but after a moment go back to each other. He looks over the couch to see Will in the kitchen, looking more than a bit uneasy.

“Why don’t you just tell me what is going on here?” Guy demands.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jonny retorts, crowding Guy even more.

“Look, I don’t think we should—”

“Stay out of this, Will” the younger Alpha snaps, not even looking him, “I think you know _exactly_ what I’m talking about, Buckland.”

Guy shoves Jonny away from him, and before Chris can react Guy grabs the front of his shirt and pulls upwards. Chris’s head is forced backward as Guy breathes in Chris’s scent. He smells like wood burning and cigar smoke, but he's only able to get a whiff of it before Guy's being pulled off of him and thrown to the ground. 

"What the fuck did I say?"

Jonny's standing over Guy, daring him to retaliate. Chris has very rarely seen him like this, shoulders squared, nearly bearing teeth, dominating in a way that makes Chris feel even hotter than he's already running. Even more rare to see is Guy, bewildered, looking up at Jonny in a way Chris has never seen him look at anyone. _Submitting_. 

"Keep your hands off of him, alright? He's sick, he doesn't need you nosing around him like that." Jonny says carefully, measuring his words in an effort to restrain himself.

For a second an expression flashes across Guy's face, a desire of disobedience, but he sighs and brings himself off of the floor, refusing to meet either of their eyes.

For a terrible minute, they stand there like that, awkwardness abundant, until Will, always reliable, the perfect mediator, finally breaks the silence with a comment about how he's glad he didn't have to be the witness to a murder because he'd have to buy one suit for the court appearance and one to the funeral, and then they break into a discussion about whether or not it would be bad form to just wear the same suit, and before long they're laughing as if nothing happened.

\---------

Well, that feeling didn’t last very long.

Guy and Jonny both kept shooting him strange looks, even as they began to practice. Will was as well, though he looking at him with concern more than with whatever the fuck emotions the Alphas were. Not to mention Guy and Jonny dancing around each other. 

Good thing Chris didn't have to put up with that for long, at least. Because he passed out about twenty minutes in.

Throughout the practice he kept feeling hotter and hotter and his stomach kept twisting more and more. He tried to push through it, brushed off any concern with an affirmation that he was alright, but it evidently didn’t work out very well. 

When he comes to, he's lying down on the couch. Will has got a cold rag draped over his head, and someone's taken his shirt off to help him cool down. He can hear Jonny and Guy talking in hushed voices in some other room, but he can't make anything out.

Will had the best of every Beta aspect; nurturing, level-headed, a true mediator, and he silently thanks every God out there for him. 

He's speaking to Chris, his soothing tone tinged with concern, but suddenly he's so exhausted misses it completely. Before long, he's asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is shitty i'm sorry
> 
> i love comments more than guy loves cars


	4. four

Sometime later, he's being shaken awake.

He feels too sick to tell the person to leave him alone, so he simply mumbles and tries to disappear into the couch cushions. 

"Chris, c'mon, you can't sleep here all night," he hears, recognizing the voice as Jonny, which would usually make him less annoyed but right now his stomach is killing him and he may or may not be literally on fire so he couldn't care less. 

He hears Jonny sigh before arms are wrapped around him and he's being carried. Being in Jonny's arms seems to paradoxically calm him down and rile him up at the same time. He's placed down into his bed, unmade from the night before, and as Jonny turns to leave he grabs at the Alpha's wrist.

"Don't leave me," Chris complains, "might die, y'know."

Jonny hesitates for a moment, and Chris turns his head from where it was buried into the pillow and looks at him. He's wearing a t-shirt and boxers, hair mussed from sleep, and he looks more than a little uneasy. He seems to be choosing his words carefully before settling on "You're not gonna die, Chris."

"You don't know that for sure," Chris retorts.

Jonny rolls his eyes, but he does walk around to the other side of the bed and lie down in it, and Chris falls asleep once again knowing that even if he dies, at least Jonny is there with him.

\---------

Chris isn't going to die, but he's definitely going to vomit.

He barely makes it to the toilet in time to throw up into it. His stomach constricts inside him once again as he gags and chokes into the toilet bowl. He's gone from sweltering to freezing as he shivers on the bathroom floor.

Jonny shuffles in, probably still half-asleep, but when he sees Chris in front of the toilet he crouches down to console his friend.

"You look awful," Jonny comments as he rubs Chris's back. Chris is about to answer when he heaves again, recoiling at the burning as he vomits again.

"You're very observant," Chris coughs, flushing the toilet so he doesn't have to look at his own sick any longer. He thinks he's got it all out of his system and makes to stand up, but his legs apparently didn't get the memo as he stumbles, almost falling on his ass before Jonny catches him.

"Here," Jonny says, forcing a bottle of mouthwash into Chris's hand, which he gratefully accepts and swishes around his mouth, spitting into the sink. 

When he looks up he sees their reflection; himself, sweaty, pale, and disgusting looking, and Jonny, tired and disheveled. _At least we match._

Jonny leads him out of the bathroom, arm around his waist, and Chris would probably feel some sort of way about that if he didn't feel like shit. Another wave of pain in his abdomen hits him and he stops, leading Jonny to inhale sharply and tighten his grip on Chris to where he's basically holding him up. 

He's led not into his own room but into Jonny's ( _Your sheets are pretty gross right now_ ), and he's deposited on the bed and covered by the blanket.

"You're being awfully domestic Buckland." 

Jonny smiles sheepishly, shaking his head. "You've got to be feeling like shit right now," is his answer as he pulls another blanket out and puts that one on Chris as well.

"What, Alpha's going soft now?" he laughs weekly.

Jonny crawls in bed next to Chris with no begging necessary and turns to face Chris. "Alpha's usually take care of their Omegas, y'know."

Chris thinks his heart might've just stopped. Actually, no, scratch that: he isn't lucky enough for cardiac arrest to just save him from any situation. 

"You what?" he spits out ever-so-eloquently. 

"I mean, you're not _my_ Omega, obviously," Jonny continues, like this is a perfectly normal and rational conversation, "but you're my best friend, and you're an Omega, so close enough, right?"

Chris doesn't know whether to be angrier at himself or at the three other grown-ass adults he's interacted with in the past 24 hours. "You mean, I haven't been sick, I've been fucking _presenting?_ "

Jonny looks a bit taken aback by this question, and Chris wants to punch him in his pretty Alpha face. "You just figured that out?"

"How the fuck was I supposed to know when none of you told me?"

"What did you want us to say? 'Wow Chris, you smell like a bitch in heat all of a sudden, guess you're gonna be taking it up the ass from now on?' I'm honestly surprised you didn't notice earlier. Most people notice within like, an hour of symptoms starting."

"Stomach cramps and fever seem like pretty common symptoms of basically every illness, Jonny."

"Well, you're right about that. But I mean," Jonny says, looking pretty uncomfortable all of a sudden, "you saw me and Guy today."

"And?"

"And that's two Alphas," he continues, "you didn't, y'know, notice anything?"

"Notice anything like _what?_ "

Jonny shifts again and sighs, and at least Chris's feeling that death was going to come upon him has been replaced by anger at Jonny, Guy, and Will but mainly Jonny. "I mean, I'm not an Omega, so maybe it's different, but when I presented, Omegas were a lot more... appealing, all of a sudden."

Oh. That's what he means.

Jonny continues, "I mean, Omegas always smell good. But you can't smell as good before you present. And it's just— I don't even know how to describe it. Everyone smelled stronger, but when I was presenting, and when I'm in rut— or when I was, I've taken suppressants since my first— it was just," he gestures with his hand, conveying absolutely nothing, "they smelled so _good,_ and every time one was near me or touched me or anything I just—"

"Okay, I don't need to know about sixteen-year-old Jonny creaming his pants at the sight of an Omega," Chris interrupts, but mainly because he knows exactly the feeling Jonny is talking about. It's the way he felt around Jonny since the day he met him.

Now that Jonny mentions it, his scent does appear stronger to Chris. Petrichor, grass clippings, pine needles, winter breeze— it's all there, just with slightly different nuances. The heady scent of Alpha is still there, too, stronger than ever, and if Chris focuses on it too hard it makes him a bit lightheaded. He can also smell the exhaustion on Jonny, strangely enough, and he looks to the clock on the nightstand to see it's barely past three in the morning. 

"You do smell good, Buckland," Chris blurts out, blushing as soon as the words leave his mouth.

"So I've been told," he chuckles, the laugh soon turning into a yawn. "Goodnight, Chris."

Chris wants to continue the conversation until he's suddenly hit with exhaustion as well. 

"Goodnight, Jon," he says, turning over to close his eyes.

Just before he's about to drift off to sleep he feels Jonny slide closer to him, feels him scent gently at Chris's neck. "You smell pretty good too, Martin," he whispers and Chris can't help but shudder. He can feel Jonny's breath at the back of his neck, and something inside of him tells him to bare his neck, to _submit._ He shakes off the feeling and manages to ask, "like what?"

"Still a bit sick, to be honest, and kind of like coming off a heat," Jonny whispers sleepily, "but also like apple pie, extra cinnamon." He feels an arm snake around his waist and squeeze. "And chocolate."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i am alive! and back with a chapter that sucks and that i hate!
> 
> sorry for taking so long to update, life coupled with having absolutely no idea where to begin with this chapter led to that. hopefully i'll be quicker on the updates this time. 
> 
> i also made some very very minor edits to the first three chapters, you can read them if you want (or if i took so long to update you forgot wtf happened)
> 
> as always, please leave comments i fukin love comments :)


	5. five

When he wakes up— finally, this time, to the morning— he's a bit disappointed to find Jonny no longer beside him. That is until he looks at the clock and realizes that it's nearly one in the afternoon, far past when any reasonable person would sleep. 

He gets out of (Jonny's) bed and makes his way into his own room to grab some clothes for the day, then to the bathroom to shower. 

_Omega,_ he thinks as he washes his body, _I'm a fucking Omega_. 

He'd always, always assumed he'd be a Beta. Not only because it was the statistically most likely outcome for him, but because he didn't feel like he could ever fill the role of an Alpha in any capacity. And Omega didn't even cross his mind, it was so particularly rare. One in 5,000 and even that seemed generous. 

He felt his lower abdomen, which still was occasionally spasming but had mostly calmed down, and realized that all that pain was from a fucking _uterus_ developing inside of him. He could theoretically get knocked up by an Alpha. 

The thought disgusts him at first. Getting all round, his feet swelling up, having to piss all the time. Having to get a cesarian. Coming home to his mum and dad with his _male Alpha_ (because no way was he going to let a woman fuck him if he could even find one) and their _spawn._

But at the same time, the animalistic part of him _loves_ the idea. Getting filled up with (Jonny's) an Alpha's cum, being fucking _bred_ by (Jonny) him, getting protected and pampered because that'd be (Jonny's) an _Alpha's_ kid in there, and you don't fuck with an Alpha's kid.

He doesn't even realize he's getting turned on until he feels _slick_ running down his thighs. Perfect. Now not only does he have his dick and his pheromones to broadcast when he's turned on, but he can also get wet like a girl now. 

_Fuck it,_ he decides as he wraps a hand around himself. It's not like he's never jacked off to thoughts of (Jonny) an Alpha. And it's normal now, right? 

\---------

"You're going to be going into heat soon, y'know."

"I'm well aware," Chris grumbles as he tries to tune his guitar. "You don't have to remind me about it."

He twists a bit too hard on the peg and manages to snap the string, cursing. Fucking Guy and his insistence that cheap strings that you never fucking change sound best, the frugal prick. Jonny motions for Chris to pass it to him and he eagerly does, glad that Jonny can change strings a lot better than he can. 

"I'm just saying," he continues, rummaging around for the extra strings, "you should probably decide how you're going to handle it. And soon. I can't tell as good as other Alphas how long you have, but it's not long after you present."

Chris has picked up Jonny's Telecaster, which, surprise surprise, is also out of tune. He should just buy a goddamn tuner already, but God forbid someone brings up _tuners_ around Guy Berryman. "I can just go on suppressants and be fine, right?"

"Not for your first," Dr. Buckland replies, unwinding the broken string from the peg, "it can fuck with your hormones or something like that."

Chris sighs as he struggles with the D string, "Well, I can just do without, then."

"From all that I've heard, heats are fucking horrible," Jonny says, flinching as he pokes himself with the end of the string, "and yours is, what, three years overdue? That can't end well."

"So what do I do?" Chris retorts, finally giving up on tuning all by himself and setting off on finding the one tuning fork the whole band has between the four of them. "Just call up some Alpha and ask him to fuck me for a couple of days?"

"I mean, yeah, that's what people do."

Chris stops rummaging through the pile of junk in the corner of their living room and looks at Jonny, who's _thankfully_ taken it upon himself to just restring the whole guitar with strings that aren't of homeless man quality. "Seriously?"

Jonny shrugs, clearly finding this entire conversation completely normal. "Yeah. You can even go to a clinic and get a prescription for one, but I'm pretty sure you have to prove you'll die or something without someone. But normally people just find someone at a bar or call one of their friends."

"You want me to pick up some guy at a bar and take them back to our flat to have sex with me for multiple days."

"Well no, I don't _want_ that," Jonny says, turning a slight shade of pink, "but people do it. You don't have any Alpha friends you can trust?"

"Like who, Guy Berryman? I'm not that desperate," he snorts, and the response elicits a laugh from Jonny too. 

"C'mon, you really have no other Alpha friends?"

"I don't have all that many close friends at all," Chris starts, continuing his search through the pile, "and the only other Alpha I could possibly trust besides Guy is—"

He thankfully stops before saying the word, but it hangs in the air anyway. Jonny's not an idiot. 

He turns to face the Alpha once again, and this time Jonny's looking up at him, green eyes staring directly into his own, slight shock on his face, and it sends a chill down Chris's spine.

He'd seen that look before, seen other Alpha's giving it to each other, to Omegas, anyone, really. He'd never been able to put an exact emotion on it, but all of a sudden, as a smile spreads across Jonny's face, it's obvious.

It's a challenge.

"Are you propositioning me, Chris?"

The smirk on Jonny's face indicates it's a joke, but the look in his eyes indicates he's dead serious. Chris stammers a few incomprehensible noises, and before he's able to verbalize any concrete thought he's interrupted.

"Pretty forward for a virgin, not going to lie."

Jonny's voice drops a bit lower into a range Chris had very rarely heard from him, only when he was talking to another Alpha. But this time the voice had a bit of an edge to it, and Chris could sense a spike of arousal coming from the Alpha. 

"How did you—"

"It's pretty obvious Chris," Jonny says, putting the guitar down. 

"Jonny, what are you saying?"

Jonny grinds his jaw for a second as he clenches and unclenches his fists. He takes a deep breath trying to compose himself and says, in a more typical Jonny tone but still a bit off, "Look, Chris. You're an Omega. You're going to be going into heat soon, which is notoriously a bad experience without an Alpha. I'm an Alpha, I'm your best friend, and I'm assuming you trust me. It also would kind of suck if you lost your virginity in a hormone-induced sex craze."

Chris nods, knowing exactly where this is going now, and he's not sure if he likes it. It's a dream come true in a way, but it also seems fairly transactional.

"I can take care of you during your heat. I can also have sex with you now."

Chris lets those words pass through his mind for a few seconds, not really comprehending what the fuck is going on right now. He half wants to just ignore the question, find the tuning fork, and forget this ever happened, but then again, when is he ever going to get the chance to fuck Jonny Buckland? But he can't seem too enthusiastic, right? Jonny looks like he's discussing dinner, at least in his facial expressions. At the most extreme he's treating this like a business transaction. 

So his best response is to come up with a stupid ass retort.

"Don't you have a guitar to be tuning?"

"Why would I tune a guitar when I can fuck a virgin Omega?" Jonny smirks, leaning back on the couch and opening his legs, revealing his semi-hard erection. It makes Chris's mouth water at the sight of it, and he can feel a slight wetness in his boxers.

"Chill out man, you're sounding like Guy or something."

Jonny gets up off the couch and makes his way over to Chris, and the scent of a turned-on Alpha makes him a bit weak in the knees. 

Jonny makes a move towards Chris's neck and Chris bares it to Jonny, his breath hitching as Jonny pushes him against the living room wall. 

"I can't really help it, y'know," Jonny says into his ear, licking at Chris's neck like he did before, and the hot drag of his tongue feels ten times better than it did in his memory when he would jack off under the covers at night. "Hormones, and all that. Nature. Seems like you don't mind it, though," he finishes, his hands starting to roam all over Chris's body.

The end of his sentence is almost back to the normal Jonny tone, and Chris misses the other one immediately.

"No."

Jonny instantly loosens his grip on starts to back away, looking embarrassed and absolutely nothing like the dominant _Alpha_ that just pushed him up against the wall.

"Christ, I'm sorry Chris, I don't know what got into me—"

Chris reaches out and grabs Jonny, pulling him back towards him.

"What—"

"I don't mind it. I mean, I liked it. When you acted like—" he almost says _like an Alpha_ , but he doesn't think Jonny would take kindly to that, "like that."

Jonny looks at him, even more confused. "I wasn't exactly acting, Chris," he says, nearly ashamed.

"Whatever, you know what I mean."

"You always said you hated when Alphas treated Omegas like that."

"Because they were never interested," Chris begs, pulling Jonny closer to him. "I _want_ you to be like that."

Something shifts inside of Jonny, and his eyes darken, another daring expression coming across his face.

"What exactly do you want, Chris?"

Chris looks at him for a second before he realizes what exactly Jonny wants him to say. Immediately he flushes with embarrassment, but he can't help but feel a wave of arousal, too, and the way he can see Jonny literally _breathe_ it in does something to him.

"I want you to be an Alpha towards me."

Jonny gets even closer to Chris, hands possessively gripping his hips hard enough to leave bruises. " _An_ Alpha?" he questions into Chris's shoulder before biting down on it, and Chris tries but fails to stifle a moan.

" _I want you to be my Alpha_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow two chapters in one day? neato!
> 
> alternative title: I use y'know more than paul mccartney talking about how he wrote let it be
> 
> again, pls leave comments thank


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